Notes: Thanks to Jiraphie and John Smith for reading the initial versions.
oOo
He really should've done better on his entrance exams, he mused to himself as he carefully lifted his pair of outdoor sneakers out of the trash can. At least then he wouldn't have to put up with the same kids that had been making his life difficult since he was seven.
There were the remnants of a half-eaten bento box splattered across the soles of his shoes. He grimaced; that'd take a few hours to clean at the very least. He tossed them into a plastic bag and chucked them into his bag. He'd have to pedal home on his bike in his socks.
He made his way to the bike rack slowly, wondering if there was anything he could've done.
A fresh start. That's what he'd wanted when he started junior high, right? A fresh start away from all the kids that had bullied him in elementary.
No such luck.
He was still a social outcast. His brief friendship with Orimoto did nothing to help his image. He still wasn't sure what had possessed him during that one hot, muggy afternoon when he'd uttered those fateful words.
"Will you go out with me?"
The silence had been unbearably long.
"Can't we just be… I don't know… friends or something?"
And that was the end of that.
Or well, after he finished screaming into his pillow that night, it was the end of things with Orimoto. But that didn't stop people from talking about it.
"Hey, did you hear? Hikifroggy-kun actually asked Orimoto-san out?"
"Really? I'd feel so grossed out if he did that to me? I mean, his eyes are creepy enough, but if they're staring at me and all that?" the girl shuddered.
"So what happened? There's no way she said yes, right?"
"Of course not! I mean, who would say yes to somebody like him?
"I mean, it's Kaori. She's nice to everyone, even him. I bet that's why he asked her out in the first place. It was probably the first time a girl was nice to him.
Well, that wasn't true. It wasn't! Orimoto hadn't been his only female friend, Haruno had been nice to him too, hadn't she? And she'd liked him well enough back then.
But thinking about Haruno only dredged up unwanted emotions.
Because ever since their meeting in the library; the one where he'd talked about that woman from the future, he hadn't seen her again.
It wasn't as though it was particularly easy for them to see each other. She was four years older than him; they went to different schools and she was always a part of a different crowd. She was pretty and popular and said all the right things. He was average looking on a good day and couldn't keep his foot out of his mouth. Oh, and don't even start on the awkwardness with girls. He'd retired from talking to them in the first semester of the seventh grade.
They ran in different circles. They were a part of totally different worlds. It was just a coincidence that they had met in the first place, that's all. And anything that happened after was a bonus. It wasn't as though he expected things to continue like that forever. Their random little meetings wouldn't… couldn't last.
So why?
Why did he keep returning to their little table at the library? Every day after school, and every weekend as well, hoping that she'd just appear out of the blue to plop down into a chair beside him and poke and tease at him while he grumbled and swatted her overly touchy hands away. He'd always been annoyed by her teasing; the way that she would randomly say something that would leave him spluttering and blushing up a storm.
But now, the library just felt cold and empty.
She never did show up, but the one benefit of spending this much time alone in the library was that he had managed to study quite a lot. He was consistently at or near the top of his class now. Not that that helped his class reputation whatsoever. In fact, he was pretty sure that his high marks only made his peers shun him more.
However, it did mean that he could start aiming higher for his choice of high school. He knew that Haruno went to Soubu, and that it was considered an elite school; the first of many steps towards a top university and hopefully a career that didn't involve killing himself with overwork. He still shuddered at the state of his parents sometimes.
He also knew that most of his classmates would never be able to pass the entrance exams to such a school, and that only built up his determination further.
Soubu was the goal then and so he'd thrown himself into his studies to get there. The months slid by quickly. He woke up. He went to school and kept to himself, paying attention only to the teachers where necessary. Honestly, if it weren't for Komachi he'd start fearing that he'd lose his voice since he had so few opportunities to use it. And then he'd cycle his way to the library, sit down at the table, open his books, and study.
And then finals for the year were over.
oOo
Summer break was the just reward for someone that had spent their entire semester slaving away for academic improvement. Finally, he could laze around the house and spend as much time with Vita-chan as he pleased. He could sleep in the mornings and wake up in the afternoons if he'd lost track of time watching another anime. He could go out at night, when temperatures had cooled and it didn't literally feel as though he were being set on fire just by stepping outside, to go buy the latest issue of Weekly Shonen Jump.
But after two weeks of this type of lifestyle, Komachi kicked him out of the house.
"You need to go outside, Onii-chan. Komachi would never forgive herself if she let her older brother become the hikikomori that he seems to always aspire to be."
He'd tried ruffling her hair and changing the subject.
"Aspiring, eh? When'd you grow up and start learning how to use all these adult words?"
She smacked him, "I'm not a kid anymore, Onii-chan. And you're not the only hard worker in the house. Now stop trying to change the subject. If you need something specific to do then go and buy me something sweet."
After much grumbling he acquiesced to her demands and got dressed to go out.
Unfortunately it was scorching hot. He could feel the sweat beading up all over his body the second he stepped outside. Grimacing, he took off at a brisk pace, eager to seek out a place with good air conditioning. He would've gone to Lawson's but they weren't really a dessert shop and it was also tiny. There'd be no place for him to sit and cool down.
Maybe there was somewhere else he could go…?
And then suddenly, he was standing there, in the middle of that familiar back alley. An alley that he had visited twice already, and had never wanted to go back again. But somehow, unconsciously, he'd found himself here.
He moved towards the door, only to stop. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to go in. The cafe, he maintained, was still creepy. The people, the time travelling, the ghost, even the staff. It was all weird and not particularly something he wanted to be caught up in. He still hadn't forgotten about that beautiful woman he'd met the last time, and he'd kept a sharp eye out for any particular girls that might fit the description of a younger version of that woman.
No such luck. The only thing he found were scathing remarks from the various girls about how utterly revolting it was to catch him staring at them.
He really should leave.
He really needed to leave. And then he turned around, only to find himself face to face with…well… with the same waitress girl that had gotten so angry with him before.
"Err…"
The waitress seemed surprised to see him as well.
She glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "I remember you. Why are you here? I thought you were done with our little cafe?"
"I…uhm…erm…"
"What? You wanna order another parfait again? And then choke on a strawberry again? What kind of person even chokes on a strawberry, like honestly?"
"I'm not… I don't want a parfait."
She crossed her arms. "Then why are you here? Our cafe, we don't exactly offer the best coffee or pastries around. If you come to our cafe and you're not a regular, well… you pretty much only have just the one reason to come. And you made it pretty clear last time that you held no interest in the past."
"I don't really know if that's true…-"
"Excuse me," the girl's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I didn't realize that going around cluelessly asking people what could have possibly possessed them to want to go back in time implied that you were interested in returning yourself. You clearly demonstrated that you understood that to a lot of these people, going back in time is a precious gift."
"Look, you're right. I don't understand. But don't you think that's why I'm asking? What could one possibly achieve, locked into a chair in the past without the ability to change what's already happened?"
She glared at him, "Because for some of us, just the chance at seeing your brother again is precious. For some, going back in time to say sorry for all the stupid shit that you said before he left might be of some value. Just because you were privileged enough to not have a reason to return to the past doesn't mean that all of us were lucky enough to have lived our life without any regrets."
She was breathing heavily as she finished her tirade.
"Now if you'll excuse me, I have a shift to get to."
oOo
Clang-dong!
He didn't jump this time.
"Welco-oh. It's you. Why are you still here?" The waitress snarked as she leaned back against the counter.
"It's hot outside," he replied, refusing to rise to her bait. "I'd like an iced coffee."
"Two hundred fifty yen."
He handed her a few coins, before turning around and surveying the cafe.
There were no customers that day; the cafe was deserted except for that woman. It must've been too hot outside.
He sat down at an adjacent table right as the waitress returned, unceremoniously plunking his coffee down in front of him before whirling around and stalking back to the counter.
He took a sip of the cool liquid and shuddered. It was bitter. Almost bitter enough to be considered as completely black coffee. He quickly spooned in some sugar from a nearby sugar pot and stirred the drink before taking another sip.
A little more bearable.
The cafe was nicely air-conditioned, so he quickly found himself cooling down from the extreme hat he'd been battling outside.
Maybe I should just stay here for a while, he thought to himself. He'd just get some random dessert off the menu for Komachi in a takeaway box. It was certainly the more attractive option than having to make the twenty-minute walk to that pastry shop that he knew his sister favored.
Smirking at his own ingenuity, he reached into his bag and pulled out the copy of the latest light novel he'd been reading and settled in.
It felt like only minutes had passed before he'd finished the whole volume. He stretched his arms above his head, and made to take another sip of his coffee only to find that his glass was long empty. Maybe it was time to go home. But first, should he get the coffee cake or the fruit tart for Komachi?
Hmm.
Probably best to get the coffee cake, since the fruit might spoil on the way home, he mused.
"Uhm, excuse me." An unfamiliar, soft voice spoke up, breaking through his thoughts.
He looked up, wondering if somehow he'd missed new customers coming in.
Nope.
Instead, he found himself staring into the eyes of a young boy who looked no more than ten. He had messy black hair and dark blue eyes, and wore the uniform of some elementary school that he wasn't familiar with. It was the winter uniform, because there was no way that schools would force their kids to wear a sweater in the summer heat.
But that wasn't even the most surprising part.
The most surprising part was that he was sitting in that seat.
He looked around quickly. The waitress girl had disappeared somewhere, and there was nobody else around.
"Are you… are you talking to me?"
The boy rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm talking to you, dummy. Do you see anyone else around?"
He didn't remember being this impertinent as a grade schooler.
Ah.
Right.
This guy probably came from the future. It was strange to him how this time, he didn't feel any of the fear and apprehension that he had felt the last time. Was it because the visitor wasn't some beautiful woman, but just an ordinary kid?
"Well, errr- what did you need from me?"
The boy seemed to struggle with himself.
Hachiman raised an eyebrow at him.
The kid blushed and asked in a quiet voice, "Can you…- can I take a picture with you?"
"Excuse me?" He couldn't quite believe his ears.
"A picture. Could I take a picture with you, mister?"
"Wha-why? Why do you want to take a picture with me?"
"I told her it was a stupid idea," the kid muttered under his breath, before turning away from him. "Whatever. I just wanted to take a picture with you, but if you don't want to, that's fine too. I'll just be going now."
He proceeded to take a mouthful of the coffee in front of him only to grimace and spit it out.
"That's gross. Why would people ever drink this coffee stuff? Stupid idiots, the lot of them."
At those words, Hachiman felt compelled to defend his beloved beverage of choice.
"Hey, I'll have you know that not all coffee is gross! You can't say that all coffee is gross until you've tried the best coffee in the world!"
The kid turned around and gave him a strange look.
"The best coffee in the world?"
"Yeah. MAX Coffee. In fact, I'd go so far as to call it the best drink in the world."
The kid's eyes widened in surprise.
"Really?"
Hachiman nodded. "Next time you see some MAX coffee in a vending machine, make sure to try it. I promise you won't regret it."
The kid nodded, still wide-eyed.
This was some weird kid, Hachiman thought to himself.
"Hey… uh… why are you… here?" he asked.
The kid was struggling to gulp down another mouthful of coffee.
"Hmm? What do you mean why?"
"I mean… isn't there someone you wanted to meet? Or something you wanted to say? I mean, you took a pretty big risk to come back in time like this, right?"
The kid shrugged. "Doesn't seem too risky to me? Just drink the coffee before it gets cold, the waitress lady said."
Right. Weird kid.
"Well, then, what are you doing in the past? What do you want?"
"I told you, didn't I? I wanted to take a picture with you."
"A picture with me? Why me? Did you come back to see me? How do I know you?"
"Look, there's no time," the boy said, gesturing at the coffee. When he looked, he couldn't even see the steam rising off of the surface anymore. It was true, the boy didn't have much time left.
The waitress's voice rang in his head.
"Just because you were privileged enough to not have a reason to return to the past doesn't mean that all of us were lucky enough to have lived our life without any regrets."
And a feeling of guilt crept in.
"Alright, whatever. I'll take the picture."
The boy flashed him a grateful smile, and pulled out his phone. Only it wasn't a phone that Hachiman had ever seen before. This phone was sleek and thin, and the camera function on it seemed to also be far superior than anything that he had encountered before. He could see himself with a clarity that not even a mirror could provide.
Should I make a pose? He thought to himself, but decided against it. He wasn't about to hold up some peace sign and pretend that he was some riajuu when the truth couldn't be further from that.
The boy, however, didn't seem to have any such reservations, flashing a wide smile and holding up two fingers. The flash nearly blinded Hachiman; he couldn't quite figure out why the kid needed a flash when the cafe was lit up perfectly fine, but before he could comment either way, the boy hugged him.
It was difficult, because from the boy's position it was not easy for him to wrap his arms around Hachiman, who had been standing behind him. But he managed to turn halfway in the chair and awkwardly wrap an arm around his waist.
"Thanks," the boy said, with genuine emotion in his voice.
And then he was gulping down the coffee and disappearing into smoke, leaving Hachiman standing bewildered behind the woman in the white dress.
"Did we… have a visitor?"
The waitress was back, and she was looking at him as if seeing him in a completely new light.
"Ah. Yeah."
"Who was it? A friend of yours?"
He shook his head.
"I don't know."
She stared at him. "You don't know?"
"Never seen him before in my life."
"But you looked pretty chummy together."
He shrugged.
"More him than me."
"I… see."
There was a note of surprise in her voice. As if she couldn't believe that someone had wasted their precious once in a lifetime time traveling trip to visit him. He wondered if he should be offended by her tone or happy that he wasn't all that this girl expected him to be.
"Did you want a refill?"
Jolted out of his thoughts, he could only stammer out a reply.
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Your coffee. Did you want another cup? We do free refills for iced and hot black coffee."
"Ah! Uhm, I think I'm alright. I'll have to leave soon anyways, my sister is expecting me home."
"Well, alright then. Let me know if you need anything else."
"Actually… uh, do you have any particularly recommended pastries?"
oOo
After that cafe incident, the rest of his summer passed without much fanfare. Komachi berated him for not buying her favorite crème brûlée from the French pastry shop that had gotten fairly popular in Chiba, but otherwise not much changed. He did spend quite some time wondering about that boy that had shown up that day. He had occupied Hachiman's thoughts as much as that other time traveler did; the mysterious, beautiful young woman.
In the back of his mind there was a feeling that it was kind of odd that he'd had visitors each time he'd visited the cafe. Was this the norm for people that visited the cafe? It couldn't be right? Surely not every patron of the cafe would have a visitor from the future. After all, the cripple that he and Haruno had encountered their first time at the cafe had spent weeks waiting there and he never mentioned any visitors, only that he himself wanted to travel back in time.
So then why did he already have two visitors from the future?
It was strange, and he couldn't quite shake off the nagging feeling that something was… well… off about the whole thing.
He'd thought that the cafe was only a curiosity, something that you'd mess around with, a bit of fun mixed with danger with all of the rules and risks involved. But perhaps he really needed to revise that opinion.
He didn't get much of a chance to go visit again, though, because his life became busy once again.
Summer break ended and school started up again, and with it came his renewed determination to test into Soubu. He still headed to the library for self-study on weekdays, but Saturdays were consumed by cram school. His parents had decided that he was working towards a very admirable academic goal for the first time in his life, and provided him with the money to enroll in the local cram school.
He wasn't entirely sure if it was a blessing or a curse yet.
The blessing was that, naturally, his grades continued to improve, particularly in areas which he had previously been quite atrocious at. Especially math.
He would never be the next Euler, but at the very least he wasn't always scraping the bottom of the barrel in that class anymore.
His parents also provided him with quite a bit more money than was needed to purchase all the necessary study materials for the school.
"We won't have time to go shopping for you, so here's some money. Take Komachi and buy everything you need."
So he suddenly came into a rather large amount of pocket money. Another plus.
Of course, the curse of cram school was that he had to wake up at nine in the morning on a Saturday.
He was quite convinced that the person who had created the school must have also been a sadist. There was nothing more painful than being awakened by his alarm clock at eight AM on a Saturday.
He was feeling extremely lethargic by the time they'd let them go to lunch break.
"Guess I shouldn't have stayed up to clear that last level, huh?" he muttered to himself as he slipped out of the cram school's gates.
With his newfound financial freedom, he wasn't going to be eating the cram school's rather dismal cafeteria anymore. Not when he could go to Saize.
Saize. Short for Saizeriya. The King of Restaurants, in his humble opinion.
A chain of family-style yoshoku Italian restaurants that had opened in the 60's, it was a godsend, providing generous portions of delicious food at an extremely affordable price. If waking up early on Saturdays was cruel and unusual punishment, then lunch at Saize was the reward for enduring it.
It was only a short five minute walk to the restaurant from the cram school, and his lunch break was an hour long, which was more than enough time considering the speed at which the food was served at Saize.
He slipped into the restaurant and was greeted by the pleasant older lady that was always manning the host stand.
"Welcome back, sir! Would you like your usual table?
"Yes, please. Thank you."
Indeed, he was here often enough that some of the staff recognized him. The hostess led him to his usual corner table. He preferred that table above all others because it was the perfect spot for one of his favorite things to do whenever he was forced to interact with society.
Observe.
He loved to watch the other customers. Watch how they acted around each other; listen in on their conversations; study their behavioral tics and reactions to each other. It was a game that he played, guessing the relationships; the thoughts and feelings of complete strangers.
The waitress wandered over almost as soon as he sat down. He ordered his usual hamburger and a Coke, before he settled in to play the game. He started with the closest customers to his table. That would be the elderly couple sitting two tables down from him. They were silently eating their meal together, but even at a distance he could tell that this silence was comfortable. It wasn't the silence that he experienced so often at school; that sort of awkward silence that would always fill the room whenever he attempted to join a conversation. That silence was unpleasant, because he could almost feel the stares directed at him, even if they weren't in his line of sight. He could practically hear them: the snarky comments and rude thoughts about him that he had yet to escape from.
No. This silence between the elderly couple was a golden silence. The sort of silence where they were so in tune with each other, so comfortable in each others' presence that there was no need to fill the air with anything else.
It was the sort of silence that bespoke a lifetime of love and companionship.
Next, the group of three friends sitting right by the door.
One of them was animated, carrying the conversation by speaking constantly and laughing uproariously. The second was smiling and nodding, adding the occasional comment. It was clear, however, that the second one was the centerpiece of this little group. The first guy was always speaking at the second guy. Everything he said; all of the crazy hand gestures and no doubt corny jokes were made for the second guy's benefit.
The group dynamic was made even more clear by the behavior of the third guy. He had a tight smile on his face that looked more than a little forced. It seemed as though he tried to interject into the conversation, perhaps to steer it in a direction more favorable to him, but he could not get a word past the boisterous first guy. He too kept glancing at the second guy, as if he were hoping that through his glances he could convey what he didn't have the courage to say outright.
"Haaah, he should really tell that guy to just shut the fuck up, huh?" he muttered.
"Oh, I'm sorry sir. Are those customers being too loud?"
It was the waitress, returning with his plate of food.
"Ah! No, it's quite alright. I was just thinking out loud to myself haha," he scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"If you say so, sir. Although, I personally think that they're too loud as well and it's honestly gotten quite annoying. But management would never let me hear the end of it if I told them how I really felt so I just have to put with it, I guess."
"Erm…"
"Anyways, enjoy your food," she set down his plate and left him wondering if all waitresses were as forward as this one. Somehow, he doubted it.
The hamburger was delicious; juicy and perfectly seasoned, and the runny yolk of the fried egg stacked on top of the burger complemented the flavors flawlessly. He quickly scarfed down his meal. He was just polishing off the last of the fries that came with the meal when the door to the restaurant opened, bringing a wave of heat into the otherwise comfortably air-conditioned restaurant. He didn't bother looking up; there was only ten minutes before he had to head back out to the school and he hadn't finished his game yet. There were still two tables on the far side of the room.
But then she entered the restaurant.
Yukinoshita Haruno.
The conversations around the restaurant ceased and heads swiveled towards the entrance. It was as if her very presence was a magnet for attention.
He fared no better, but this was to be expected. For, as he had established long ago, Yukinoshita Haruno was beautiful. Her clothes were always stylish and alluring, her makeup forever perfect, not a single strand of hair out of place, and her mask of amiability worn perfectly in the form of that bright smile on her face. This scene was so familiar to him; it was a near-perfect recreation of the first time they'd met, after all.
Her eyes wandered around the restaurant, although that smile never faltered. He'd forgotten how naturally unnatural it was. He knew that it was fake, but that was only because he knew Yukinoshita Haruno. Or at least he thought he did, once upon a time. Others would never be able to tell that the girl in front of them was anything, but the picture of innocent happiness. The picture of youth.
He knew better. There was a hint of panic behind those eyes. And her hair was a little windswept; it wasn't quite done up in her traditional style.
Something was wrong.
He almost made to get her attention, but then he remembered that they hadn't exactly spoken in months.
Maybe it was better if he hid himself in his little corner booth. After all, it didn't seem like she was particularly interested in him anymore.
Their eyes met. He'd tried to duck away into his booth before her gaze could land upon him but he had been too slow.
Or at least that's what he told himself.
They stared at each other for a moment. Her only visible reaction was a slight widening of her eyes. She didn't rush toward him, but neither did she run away. She simply stood there, looking at him as if he were a particularly interesting artifact on display at a museum somewhere.
Was that all she had to offer? After everything?
He felt some of the anger and frustration boil up from within his chest. He wanted answers. Why had she avoided him? Was all the teasing, all the boyfriend jokes and the hugs and the physical closeness, just a lie?
But all thoughts of confrontation flew from his mind. Because Yukinoshita Haruno was striding forward towards his table now.
She didn't stop until she had slid into his booth next to him, sitting so close to him that he could see the darker irises of her violet eyes. So close that he could clearly see that she was worried about something.
"H-Haruno-san?"
She glanced behind her, almost as if she was confirming something, before nodding to herself.
"Perfect. I'm sorry Hikigaya-kun."
"I-huh? I-I mean, you better be sorry!"
He cringed at his choice of words. It wasn't his proudest moment, but it was getting difficult to utilize any higher cognitive functions with Yukinoshita Haruno, who had slid ever closer to him and was now practically sitting in his lap.
The door opened again, and the heat wave swept through the restaurant once more.
"Just… go with the flow." The girl in his lap murmured softly into his ear.
"I-what?"
Then she closed what little distance was left between them and aggressively pushed her lips against his.
oOo
